6O37 


Sutro 
Marriage  has  been  arranged 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


French's  International  Copyrighted  (in  England,  \ttr 

Colonies,  and  the  United  States)  Edition  of 

the  Works  of  the  Best  Authors. 

txsssesosstxaQSs^^ 

No.  77. 


A  Marriage  Has  Been 
Arranged 

A  DUOLOGUE 

H  Cornell?  in  ©ue  Bet 


BY 


ALFRED  SUTRO 

Autkor  of  "The  Cave  of  Illusions/' "  Women  In  Love,"  etc. 


COPYRIGHT,  1904,  BY  SAMUEL  FRENCH 


CAUTION :— Professionals  and  Amateurs  are  hereby  notified 
that  this  play  is  fully  copyrighted  under  the  existing  laws 
of  the  United  States  Government,  and  nobody  is  allowed 
to  do  this  play  without  first  having  obtained  permission  of 
Samuel  French. 


NEW  YORK 
SAMUEL  FRENCH 

PUBLISHER 

25  WEST  45TH  STREET 


LONDON 

SAMUEL  FRENCH,  LTD. 

26  SOUTHAMPTON  STREET 

STRAND 


XtiSQ^lffi£^ls&®^ 


MRS.  WIGGS  OF   THE 
CABBAGE   PATCH 

flyramatization  in  3  acts,  by  Anne  Crawford  Flexner  from 
fte  novel  by  Alice  Hegan  Kice.  15  males,  11  females. 
3.  interior,  1  exterior.  Costumes  modern  and  rustic.  Plays 
A  full  evening. 

A  capital  dramatization  of  the  ever-beloved  Mrs.  Wiggs  and 
tier  friends,  people  who  have  entered  the  hearts  and  minds  of  a 
cation.  Mrs.  Schultz  and  Lovey  Mary,  the  pessimistic  Miss  Hazy 
and  the  others  need  no  new  introduction.  Here  is  characteriza- 
tion, humor,  pathos,  and  what  is  best  and  most  appealing  in 
modern  American  life.  The  amateur  acting  rights  are  reserved 
for  the  present  in  all  cities  and  towns  where  there  are  stock 
companies.  Royalty  will  be  quoted  on  application  for  those  cities 
•nd  towns  where  it  may  be  presented  by  amateurs. 

Price,  75  Cents. 

THE  FOUR-FLUSHER 

Comedy  in  3  acts.  By  Csesar  Dunn.  8  males,  5  females. 
£  interiors.  Modern  costumes.  Plays  2%  hours. 

A  comedy  of  hustling  American  youth,  "The  Four-Flusher"  is 
one  of  those  clean  and  bright  plays  which  reveal  the  most  appeal* 
Ing  characteristics  of  our  native  types.  Here  is  an  amusing  story 
nf  a  young  shoe  clerk  who  through  cleverness,  personality,  and 
plenty  of  wholesome  faith  in  himself,  becomes  a  millionaire.  The 
play  is  best  described  as  "breezy."  It  is  full  of  human  touches, 
•nd  develops  a  most  interesting  story.  It  may  be  whole-heartedly 
recommended  to  high  schools.  (Royalty,  twenty-five  dollars.) 

Price,  75  Cents. 

PALS  FIRST 

Comedy  In  a  prologue  and  3  acts.  By  Lee  Wilson  Dodd. 
B  males,  3  females.  1  interior,  1  exterior.  Modern  cos- 
tumes. Plays  2%  hours. 

Based  on  the  successful  novel  of  the  same  name  by  F.  P. 
11111011,  "Pals  First"  is  a  decidedly  picturesque  mystery  play. 
Danny  and  the  Dominie,  a  pair  of  tramps,  enter  a  mansion  and 
persuade  the  servants  and  friends  that  they  belong  there.  They 
Me  not  altogether  wrong,  though  it  requires  the  intervention  of 
A  judge,  two  detectives,  a  villain  and  an  attractive  girl  to  un- 
•ftngle  the  complications.  A  most  ingenious  play,  well  adapted 
»  performance  by  high  schools  and  colleges.  (Royalty,  twenty- 
>e  dollars.)  Price,  75  Cent*. 

SAMUEL  FRENCH,  25  West  45th  Street,  New  York  City 
Our  New  Ds«cripuvs  Catalogue  Sent  Free  on  RequMt 


A  Marriage  Has 
Been  Arranged 

A  DUOLOGUE 

A    COMEDY    IN    ONE    ACT 


BY 


ALFRED    SUTRO 


Author  of  "The  Cave  of  Illusions,"    ""Women  in  Love,"  etc. 


COPYRIGHT,  1904,  BY  SAMUEL  FRENCH 

CAUTION  : — Professionals   and    Amateurs   are   hereby   notified 

that  this  play  is  fully  copyrighted  under  the  existing  laws  of 

the  United  States  Governm     .t,  and  nobody  is  allowed 

to  do  this  play  with:  u':  first  having  obtained 

permission  c*  Samuel  French. 


NEW  YORK 
SAMUEL  FRENCH 

PUBLISHER 

25  WEST  45TH  STREET 


.LONDON 


SAMUEL  FRENCH,  LTD. 

26  SOUTHAMPTON  STREEC 

STRAND 


ALL    RIGHTS    RESERVED 


Especial  notice  should  be  taken  that  the  possession  of 
this  book  without  a  valid  contract  for  production  first 
having  been  obtained  from  the  publisher,  confers  no  right 
or  license  to  professionals  or  amateurs  to  produce  the  play 
publicly  or  in  private  for  gain  or  charity. 

In  its  present  form  this  play  is  dedicated  to  the  reading 
public  only,  and  no  performance,  representation,  produc- 
tion, recitation,  or  public  reading,  or  radio  broadcasting 
may  be  given  except  by  special  arrangement  with  Samuel 
French,  25  West  45th  Street,  New  York. 

This  play  may  be  presented  by  amateurs  upon  payment 
of  a  royalty  of  .Five  Dollars  for  each  performance, 
payable  to  Samuel  French,  25  West  45th  Street, 
New  York,  one  week  before  the  date  when  the  play  is 
given. 

Whenever  the  play  is  produced  the  following  notice  must 
appear  on  all  programs,  printing  and  advertising  for  the 
play:  "Produced  by  special  arrangement  with  Samuel 
French  of  New  York." 

Attention  is  called  to  the  penalty  provided  by  law  for 
any  infringement  of  the  author's  rights,  as  follows. 

"SECTION  4966: — Any  person  publicly  performing  or  rep- 
resenting any  dramatic  or  musical  composition  for  which 
copyright  has  been  obtained,  without  the  consent  of  the 
proprietor  of  said  dramatic  or  musical  composition,  or  his 
heirs  and  assigns,  shall  be  liable  for  damages  thereof,  such 
damages,  in  all  cases  to  be  assessed  at  such  sum,  not  less 
than  one  hundred  dollars  for  the  first  and  fifty  dollars  for 
every  subsequent  performance,  as  to  the  court  shall  appear 
to  be  just.  If  the  unlawful  performance  and  representation 
be  wilful  and  for  profit,  such  person  or  persons  shall  be 
guilty  of  a  misdemeanor,  and  upon  conviction  shall  be  im- 
prisoned for  a  period  not  exceeding  one  year."— U.  S. 
Revised  Statutes :  Title  60,  Chap.  3. 


Marriage  Has   Been  Arranged 


— The  Conservatory  of  No.  300  Grosvenor  Square 
Hour. — Close  on  midnight.  A  ball  is  in  progress 
and  dreamy  waits  music  is  heard  in  the  distance. 

(LADY  ALINE  DE  VAUX  enters,  leaning  on  the  arm  of  MR. 
HARRISON  CROCKSTEAD.) 

CROCKSTEAD.  (Looking  around. )  Ah — this  is  the  place 
— very  quiet,  retired,  romantic — et  cetera.  Music  in  the 
distance — all  very  appropriate  and  sentimental.  (He 
motions  her  to  sit  in  chair  R.  of  table  L.  c.  She  moves  to 
settee  R.  and  sits  at  L.  end.)  You  seem  perfectly  calm, 
Lady  Aline  ? 

ALINE.  (Sitting.)  Anterooms  are  not  unusual  ap- 
pendages to  a  ball-room,  Mr.  Crockstead;  nor  is  this  ante- 
room unlike  other  anterooms. 

CROCKSTEAD.  I  wonder  why  women  are  always  so  eva- 
sive i 

ALINE.  With  your  permission  we  will  not  discuss  the 
sex.  You  and  I  are  too  old  to  be  cynical,  and  too  young 
to  be  appreciative.  And  besides,  it  is  a  rule  of  mine, 
whenever  I  sit  out  a  dance,  that  my  partner  shall  avoid  the 
subjects  of  women — and  war. 

CROCKSTEAD.  You  limit  the  area  of  conversation—  But 
then,  in  this  particular  instance,  I  take  it,  we  have  not 
come  here  to  talk?  (Moving  R.  at  back  of  settee  and  sits 
beside  lier.) 

ALINE.     (Coldly.)      I    beg    your    pardon! 

CROCKSTEAD.  (Sitting  beside  her.)  Lady  Aline,  they 
are  dancing  a  cotillon  in  there,  so  we  have  half  an  hour 
before  us.  We  shall  not  be  disturbed,  for  the  Duchess, 
your  aunt,  has  considerately  stationed  her  aged  com- 
panion in  the  corridor,  with  instructions  to  ward  off  in- 
truders. 

ALINE.     (Very  surprised.)     Mr.  CrocksteadJ 


6         A  MARRIAGE   HAS   BEEN   ARRANGED 

CROCKSTEAD.  (Looking  hard  at  her.')  Didn't  you  know? 
(ALINE  turns  aside,  embarrassed.)  That's  right — of 
course  you  did.  Don't  you  know  why  I  have  brought 
you  here?  That's  right;  of  course  you  do.  The  Duch- 
ess, your  aunt,  and  the  Marchioness,  your  mother — observe 
how  fondly  my  tongue  trips  out  the  titles — smiled  sweetly 
on  us  as  we  left  the  ball-room.  There  will  be  a  notice  in 
the  "Morning  Post"  to-morrow:  "A  Marriage  Has  Been 
Arranged  Between — " 

ALINE.  (Bcivildcrcd  and  offended.  Rises.")  Mr.  Crock- 
stead  !  This — this  is — 

CROCKSTEAD.  (Always  in  the  same  quiet  tone.)  Be- 
cause I  have  not  yet  proposed,  you  mean?  Of  course  I. 
intend  to,  Lady  Aline.  Only  as  I  know  that  you  will 
accept  me — 

ALINE.  (Rising,  in  icy  tones.)  Let  us  go  back  to  the 
ball-room. 

CROCKSTEAD.  (Quite  undisturbed.)  Oh,  please!  That 
won't  help  us,  you  know.  Do  sit  down.  I  assure  you  I 
have  never  proposed  before,  so  that  naturally  I  am  a  trifle 
nervous.  (LADY  ALINE  moves  to  fire  place.)  Of  course 
I  know  that  we  are  only  supers  really,  without  much  of  a 
speaking  part ;  but  the  spirit  moves  me  to  gag,  in  the  ab- 
sence of  the  stage-manager,  '  who  is,  let  us  say,  the 
Duchess — 

ALINE.  I  have  heard  of  the  New  Humour,  Mr.  Crock- 
stead,  though  I  confess  I  have  never  understood  it'  This 
may  be  an  exquisite  example— 

CROCKSTEAD.  By  no  means.  I  am  merely  trying  to  do 
the  right  thing,  though  perhaps  not  the  conventional  one. 
Before  making  you  the  formal  offer  of  my  hand  and  for- 
tune, which  amounts  to  a  little  over  three  millions — 

ALINE.  (Fanning  herself.)  How  people  exaggerate! 
Between  six  and  seven,  /  heard. 

CROCKSTEAD.  Only  three  at  present,  but  we  must  be 
patient.  Before  throwing  myself  at  your  feet,  metaphor- 
ically, I  am  anxious  that  you  should  know  something  of 
the  man  whom  you  are  about  to  marry. 

ALINE.     That  is  really  most  considerate ! 

CROCKSTEAD.  I  have  the  advantage  of  you,  you  see,  in- 
asmuch as  you  have  many ,  dear  friends,  who  have  told 
me  all  about  you. 

ALINE.  (With  growing  exasperation,  but  keeping  very 
cool.)  Indeed? 

CROCKSTEAD.  I  am  aware,  for  instance,  that  this  is  your 
ninth  season — 

ALINE.  (Snapping  her  fan.)  You  are  remarkably  will- 
informed. 


A    MARRIAGE    HAS    BEEN    ARRANGED       y 

CROCKSTEAD.  I  have  been  told  thnt  again  to-night,  three 
times,  by  charming  young  women  who  vowed  tlidt  they 
loved  yon.  Now,  as  I  have  no  dearest  friends,  it  is  un- 
likely that  yon  will  have  heard  anything  equally  definite 
concerning  myself.  I  propose  to  enlighten  you. 

ALINE.  (Satirically.)  The  story  of  your  life — how 
thrilling! 

CROCKSTEAD.  I  trust  yon  may  find  it  so.  (Sits  on  R. 
end  of  settee.)  Lady  Aline,  I  am  a  self-made  man,  as  the 
foolish  phrase  has  it — a  man  whose  early  years  were  spent 
in  savage  and  desolate  places,  where  the  devil  had  much 
to  say;  a  man  in  whom  whatever  there  once  had  been  of 
natural  kindness  was  very  soon  kicked  out.  I  was  poor, 
and  lonely,  for  thirty-two  years:  I  have  been  rich,  and 
lonely,  for  ten.  My  millions  have  been  made  honestly 
enough ;  but  poverty  and  wretchedness  had  left  their  mark 
on  me,  and  yon  will  find  very  few  men  with  a  good  word 
to  say  for  Harrison  Crockstead.  I  have  no  polish,  or  cul- 
ture, or  tastes.  Art  wearies  me,  literature  sends  me  to 
sleep— 

ALINE.  When  you  come  to  the  chapter  of  your  per- 
sonal deficiencies,  Mr.  Crockstead,  please  remember  that 
they  are  sufficiently  evident  for  me  to  have  already  ob- 
served them. 

CROCKSTEAD.  (Without  a  trace  of  annoyance.)  That  is 
true.  I  will  pass,  then,  to  more  intimate  matters.  In  a 
little  township  in  Australia — a  horrible  place  where  there 
was  gold— I  met  a  woman  whom  I  loved.  She  was  what 
is  technically  known  as  a  bad  woman.  She  ran  away 
with  another  man.  I  tracked  them  to  Texas,  and  in  a 
mining  camp  there  I  shot  the  man.  I  wanted  to  take  the 
woman  back,  but  she  refused.  That  has  been  my  solitary 
love  affair;  and  I  shall  never  love  any  woman  again  as  I 
loved  her.  I  think  that  is  all  that  I  have  to  tell  you. 
And  now — will  you  marry  me,  Lady  Aline? 

ALINE.  (Very  steadily,  facing  him.)  Not  if  you  were 
the  last  man  in  this  world,  Mr.  Crockstead. 

CROCKSTEAD.  {With  a  pleasant  smile.)  At  least  that  is 
emphatic. 

ALINE.  See,  I  will  give  you  confidence  for  confidence. 
This  is,  as  you  suggest,  my  ninth  season.  Living  in  an 
absurd  milieu  where  marriage  with  a  wealthy  man  is  re- 
garded as  the  one  aim  in  life,  I  have,  during  the  past  few 
weeks,  done  all  that  lay  in  my  power  to  wring  a  proposal 
from  you. 

CROCKSTEAD.     I  appreciate  your  sincerity. 

ALINE.  Perhaps  the  knowledge  that  other  women  were 
doing  the  same  lent  a  little  zest  to  the  pursuit,  which 


8       A    MARRIAGE    HAS    BEEN    ARRANGED 

otherwise  would  have  been  very  dreary;  for  I  confess  that 
your  personality  did  not — especially  appeal  to  me. 

CROCKSTEAD.     (Cheerfully).     Thank  you  very  much. 

ALINE.  Not  at  all.  Indeed,  this  room  being  the  Pal- 
ace of  Truth,  I  will  admit  that  it  was  only  by  thinking 
hard  of  your  three  millions  that  I  have  been  able  to  con- 
ceal the  weariness  I  have  felt  in  your  society.  And  now 
— will  you  marry  me,  Mr.  Crockstead? 

CROCKSTEAD.  (Serenely.)  I  fancy  that's  what  we're 
here  for,  isn't  it? 

ALINE.  (Stamping  her  foot.)  I  have,  of  course,  been 
debarred  from  the  disreputable  amours  on  which  you  lin- 
ger so  fondly;  but  I  loved  a  soldier  cousin  of  mine,  and 
would  have  run  away  with  him  had  my  mother  not  packed 
me  off  in  time.  He  went  to  India,  and  I  stayed  here ; 
but  he  is  the  only  man  I  have  loved,  or  ever  shall  love. 
Further,  let  me  tell  you  I  am  twenty-eight ;  I  have  always 
been  poor — I  hate  poverty,  and  it  has  soured  me  no  less 
than  you.  Dress  is  the  thing  in  life  I  care  for  most,  vul- 
garity my  chief  abomination.  And,  to  be  frank,  I  con- 
sider you  the  most  vulgar  person  I  have  ever  met.  Will 
you  still  marry  me,  Mr.  Crockstead? 

CROCKSTEAD.  (With  undiininishcd  cheerfulness.)  Why 
not? 

ALINE.  This  is  an  outrage.  (Xing  to  L.)  Am  I  a 
horse,  do  you  think,  or  a  ballet-dancer?  Do  you  imagine 
I  will  sell- myself  to  you  for  your  three  millions? 

CROCKSTEAD.  Logic,  my  dear  Lady  Aline,  is  evidently 
not  one  of  your  more  special  possessions.  For,  had  it 
not  been  for  my — somewhat  eccentric  preliminaries — you 
would  have  accepted  me,  would  you  not? 

ALINE.     (Embarrassed.)     I — I — 

CROCKSTEAD.  If  I  had  said  to  you,  timidly:  "Lady 
Aline,  I  love  you;  I  am  a  simple,  unsophisticated  person; 
will  you  marry  me?"  You  would  have  answered,  "Yes, 
Harrison,  I  will." 

ALINE.  (L.  c.  fanning  herself.)  It  is  a  mercy  to  hav« 
escaped  marrying  a  man  with  such  a  Christian  name  aj. 
Harrison. 

CROCKSTEAD.  It  has  been  in  the  family  for  generations, 
you  know ;  but  it  is  a  strange  thing  that  I  am  always 
called  Harrison,  and  that  no  one  ever  adopts  the  dimin- 
utive. 

ALINE.  That  does  not  surprise  me :  we  have  no  pet 
name  for  the  East  wind. 

CROCKSTEAD.  The  possession  of  millions,  you  see,  Lad) 
Aline,  puts  you  into  eternal  quarantine.  It  is  a  kind  o( 
yellow  fever,  with  the  difference  that  people  are  perpetu- 


A  MARRIAGE    HAS    BEEN    ARRANGED          9 

ally  anxious  to  catch  your  complaint.  But  we  digress. 
To  return  to  this  question  of  our  marriage — 

ALINE.     I  beg  your  pardon? 

CROCKSTEAD.  I  presume  that  it  is— arranged?  (Mov- 
ing K.  a  little.) 

ALINE.  (Haughtily.)  Mr.  Crockstead,  let  me  remind 
you  that  frankness  has  its  limits :  exceeding  these,  it  is  apt 
to  degenerate  into  impertinence.  Be  good  enough  to  con- 
duct me  to  the  ball-room.  (S/ie  moves  to  c.  opening.) 

CROCKSTEAD.  You  have  five  sisters,  I  believe.  Lady 
Aline?  (ALINE  stops  short.)  All  younger  than  yourself, 
all  marriageable,  and  all  unmarried? 

(ALINE  hangs  her  head  and  is  silent.) 

CROCKSTEAD.     Your  father — 

ALINE.     (Fiercely.)     Hot  a  word  of  my  father! 

CROCKSTEAD.  (R  )  Your  father  is  a  gentleman.  The 
breed  is  rare,  and  very  fine  when  you  get  it.  But  he  is 
exceedingly  poor.  People  marry  for  money  nowadays ; 
and  your  mother  will  be  very  unhappy  if  this  marriage  of 
ours  falls  through. 

ALINE.  (Moving  down  c.)  Is  it  to  oblige  my  mother, 
then,  that  you  desire  to  marry  me? 

CROCKSTEAD.  Well.  no.  But  you  see  I  must  marry 
someone,  in  mere  self-defence ;  and  honestly,  I  think  you 
will  do  at  least  as  well  as  anyone  else.  (ALINE  bursts 
out  laiighirg.)  That  strikes  you  as  funny? 

ALINE.  If  you  had  the  least  grain  of  chivalrous  feeling, 
you  -would  realize  that  the  man  who  could  speak  to  a 
woman  as  you  have  spoken  to  me — (she  pauses) 

CROCKSTEAD.     Yes  ? 

ALINE.     I  leave  you  to  finish  the  sentence. 

CROCKSTEAD.  Thank  you.  I  will  finish  it  my  own  way. 
I  will  say  that  when  a  woman  deliberately  tries  to  wring 
an  offer  of  marriage  from  a  man  whom  she  does  not  love, 
she  deserves  to  be  spoken  to  as  I  have  spoken  to  you, 
Lady  Aline. 

ALINE.  (Scornfully.)  Love!  What  has  lovs  to  do 
with  marriage? 

CROCKSTEAD.  That  remark  rings  hollow.  You  have 
been  good  enough  to  tell  me  of  your  cousin,  whom  you 
did  love— 

ALINE.     Well? 

CROCKSTEAD.  And  with  whom,  you  would  have  eloped, 
had  your  mother  not  prevented  you. 

ALINE.     I  most  certainly  should. 

CROCKSTEAD.  So  you  see  that  at  one  period  of  your  life 
you  thought  differently —  You  were  very  fond  of  him? 

ALINE.     I  have  told  you. 


10       A  MARRIAGE   HAS    BEEN   ARRANGED 

CROCKSTEAD.  (Meditatively.}  If  I  had  been  he,  mother 
or  no  mother,  money  or  no  money,  I  would  have  carried 
you  off.  I  fancy  it  must  be  pleasant  to  be  loved  by  you, 
Lady  Aline. 

ALINE.  (With  mock  curtsey.  Sitting  in  chair  above 
tMc  L.  c.)  You  do  me  too  much  honour. 

CROCKSTEAD.  (Still  thoughtful,  moving  c.)  Next  to 
being  king,  it  is  good  to  be  maker  of  kings.  Where  is  this 
cousin  now  ? 

ALINE.  In  America.  But  might  I  suggest  that  we 
have  exhausted  the  subject? 

CROCKSTEAD.  Do  you  remember  your  "Arabian  Nights," 
Lady  Aline? 

ALINE.     Vaguely. 

CROCKSTEAD.  You  have  at  least  not  forgotten  that  sub- 
lime Caliph,  Haroun  Al-Raschid? 

ALINE.     Oh,  no — but  why? 

CROCKSTEAD.  We  millionaires  are  the  Caliphs  to-day; 
and  we  command  more  faithful  than  ever  bowed  to  them. 
And,  like  that  old  scoundrel  Haroun,  've  may  at  times 
permit  ourselves  a  respectable  impulse.  What  is  your 
cousin's  address? 

ALINE.     Again  I  ask — why? 

CROCKSTEAD.     I  will  put  him  in  a  position  to  marry  you. 

ALINE.     (In  extreme  surprise.)     What!     (Rise.) 

CROCKSTEAD.  Oh,  don't  be  alarmed,  I'll  manage  it  pleas- 
antly. I'll  give  him  tips,  shares,  speculate  for  him,  make 
him  a  director  of  one  or  two  of  my  companies.  He  shall 
have  ah  income  of  four  thousand  a  year.  You  can  live 
on  that. 

ALINE.     You  are  not  serious? 

CROCKSTEAD.  Oh  yes ;  and  though  men  may  not  like  me, 
they  always  trust  my  word.  You  may. 

ALINE.     And  why  will  you  do  this  thing? 

CROCKSTEAD.  Call  it  caprice — call  it  a  mere  vulgar  de- 
sire to  let  my  magnificence  dazzle  you — call  it  the  less  vul- 
gar desire  to  know  that  my  money  has  made  you  happy 
with  the  man  you  love. 

ALINE.  (Moved.)  That  is  generous.  (Sitting  in  arm- 
chair below  table  L.  c.) 

CROCKSTEAD.  I  remember  an  old  poem  I  learnt  at  school 
— which  told  how  Frederick  the  Great  coveted  a  mill 
that  adjoined  a  favourite  estate  of  his;  but  the  miller 
refused  to  sell.  Frederick  could  have  turned  him  out,  of 
course — there  was  no  County  Council  in  those  days — but 
he  respected  the  miller's  firmness,  and  left  him  in  solid 
possession.  And  mark  that,  at  that  very  same  time,  he 
annexed — in  other  words  stole — the  province  of  Siiesia. 


A  MARRIAGE   HAS   BEEN   ARRANGED        11 

ALINE.    Ah — 

CROCKSTEAD.     (Moving  to  fireplace  R.) 
"  Ce  sont  la  jeux  de  Princes: 
Us  respectent  un  meunier, 
Us  volent  une  province." 

(Music  stops.) 

ALINE.     You  speak  French? 

CROCKSTEAD.  I  am  fond  of  it.  It  is  the  true  and  native 
language  of  insincerity. 

ALINE.     And  yet  you  seem  sincere. 

CROCKSTEAD.  I  am  permitting  myself  that  luxury  to- 
night. I  am  uncorking,  let  us  say,  the  one  bottle  of  '47 
port  left  in  my  cellar. 

ALINE.  (Rise  and  move  tozvards  settee  R.)  You  are 
not  quite  fair  to  yourself,  perhaps. 

CROCKSTEAD.  Do  not  let  this  action  of  mine  cause  you 
too  suddenly  to  alter  your  opinion.  The  verdict  you  pro- 
nounced before  was,  on  the  whole,  just. 

ALINE.     What  verdict? 

CROCKSTEAD.  I  was  the  most  unpleasant  person  you  ever 
had  met. 

ALINE.     That — was  an  exaggeration. 

CROCKSTEAD.     The  most  repulsive — 

ALINE.  (Quickly.)  I  did  not  say  that.  (Sits  at  L. 
end  of  settee.) 

CROCKSTEAD.  And  who  prided  himself  on  his  repulsive- 
ness.  Very  true,  in  the  main,  and  yet  consider!  (Sitting 
on  R.  arm  of  settee  R.)  My  wealth  dates  back  ten  years; 
till  then  I  had  known  hunger,  and  every  kind  of  sorrow 
and  despair.  I  had  stretched  out  longing  arms  to  the  world, 
but  not  a  heart  opened  to  me.  And  suddenly,  when  the 
taste  of  men's  cruelty  was  bitter  in  my  mouth,  capricious 
fortune  snatched  me  from  abject  poverty  and  gave  me 
delirious  wealth.  I  was  ploughing  a  barren  field,  and  flung 
up  a  nugget.  From  that  moment  gold  dogged  my  footsteps. 
I  enriched  the  few  friends  I  had — they  turned  howlingly 
from  me  because  I  did  not  give  them  more.  I  showered 
money  on  whoever  sought  it  of  me — they  cursed  me  be- 
cause it  was  mine  to  give.  In  my  poverty  there  had  been 
the  bond  of  common  sorrow  between  me  and  my  fellows : 
in  my  wealth  I  stand  alone,  a  modern  Ishmael,  with  every 
man's  ha«d  against  me. 

ALINE.     (Gently.)     Why  do  you  tell  me  this? 

CROCKSTEAD.  Because  I  am  no  longer  asking  you  to 
marry  me.  Because  you  are  the  first  person  in  all  these 
years  who  has  been  truthful  and  frank  with  me.  And 
because,  perhaps,  in  the  happiness  that  will,  I  trust,  be 
yours,  I  want  you  to  think  kindly  of  me.  (She  puts  out  her 


12        A  MARRIAGE   HAS   BEEN   ARRANGED 

hand,  he  takes  it;  they  move  arm  in  arm  to  c.  and  stop.} 
And  now,  shall  we  return  to  the  ball-room?  The  music 
has  stopped ;  they  must  be  going  to  supper. 

ALINE.  (Archly.)  What  shall  I  say  to  the  Marchion- 
ess, my  mother,  and  the  Duchess,  my  aunt? 

CROCKSTEAD.  You  will  acquaint  those  noble  ladies  with 
the  fact  of  your  having  refused  me.  (Moving  up  c.  to- 
gether. ) 

ALINE.  I  shall  be  a  nine  days'  wonder.  And  how  do 
you  propose  to  carry  out  your  little  scheme  ? 

CROCKSTEAD.  I  will  take  Saturday's  boat — you  will  give 
me  a  line  to  your  cousin.  I  had  better  state  the  case 
plainly  to  him,  perhaps? 

ALINE.  That  demands  consideration.  (Releasing  her 
arm  from  his.) 

CROCKSTEAD.  And  I  will  tell  you  what  you  shall  do  for 
me  in  return.  Find  me  a  wife! 

ALINE.     I  ? 

CROCKSTEAD.  You.  I  beg  it  on  my  knees.  I  give  yon 
carte  blanche.  I  undertake  to  propose,  with  my  eyes 
shut,  to  the  woman  you  shall  select. 

ALINE.  And  will  you  treat  her  to  the — little  preliminar- 
ies— with  which  you  have  favoured  me? 

CROCKSTEAD.  No.  I  said  those  things  to  you  because  I 
liked  you. 

ALINE.     And  you  don't  intend  to  like  the  other  one? 

CROCKSTEAD.  I  will  marry  her.  I  can  trust  you  to  find 
me  a  loyal  and  intelligent  woman. 

ALINE.     In  Society? 

CROCKSTEAD.  For  preference.  She  will  be  better  versed 
in  spending  money  than  a  governess,  or  country  parson's 
daughter. 

ALINE.  But  why  this  voracity  for  marriage?  (Moving 
do^vn.) 

CROCKSTEAD.  Lady  Aline,  I  am  hunted,  pestered,  wor- 
ried, persecuted.  I  have  settled  two  breach  of  promise 
actions  already,  though  Heaven  knows  I  did  no  more  than 
remark  it  was  a  fine  day.  or  enquire  after  the  lady's 
health.  If  you  do  not  help  me.  some  energetic  woman 
will  capture  me — I  feel  it— and  bully  me  for  the  rest  of 
my  days.  I  raise  a  despairing  cry  to  you — Find  me  a 
wife ! 

ALINE.  (R.~)  Do  you  desire  the  lady  to  have  any — 
special  qualifications? 

CROCKSTEAD.  No — the  home-grown  article  will  do.  One 
thing,  though — I  should  like  her  to  be — merciful. 

ALINE.     I  don't  understand. 

CROCKSTEAD.    I   have   a  vague   desire   to   do   something 


A  MARRIAGE   HAS   BEEN    ARRANGED        13 

with  my  money:  my  wife  might  help  me.  I  should  like 
her  to  have  pity. 

ALINE.     Pity? 

CKOCKSTEAD.  In  the  midst  of  her  wealth  I  should  wish 
her  to  be  sorry  for  those  who  are  poor. 

ALINE.  (Nods.)  Yes.  And,  as  regards  the  rest — 
(Moving  to  bclozv  settee.) 

CROCKSTEAD.  The  rest  I  leave  to  you,  with  absolute 
confidence.  You  will  help  me  ? 

ALINE.     I  will  try.      My  choice  is  to  be  final? 

CROCKSTEAD.     Absolutely. 

ALINE.  I  have  an  intimate  friend — I  wonder  whether 
she  would  do? 

CROCKSTEAD.     Tell  me  about  her. 

ALINE.  She  and  1  made  our  debut  the  same  :  »ason 
Like  myself,  she  has  hitherto  been  her  mother's  despair. 

CROCKSTEAD.     Because  she  has  not  yet —  ' 

ALINE.  Married — yes.  Oh,  if  men  knew  how  hard  the 
lot  is  of  the  portionless  girl,  who  has  to  sit,  and  smile,  and 
wait,  with  a  very  desolate  heart — they  would  think  less  un- 
kindly of  her,  perhaps — (with  a  smile.)  But  I  am  digress- 
ing, too. 

CROCKSTEAD.  Tell  me  more  of  your  friend.  (Moving 
towards  her.) 

ALINE.  She  is  outwardly  hard,  and  a  trifle  bitter,  but  I 
fancy  sunshine  would  thaw  her.  There  has  not  been 
much  happiness  in  her  life. 

CROCKSTEAD.     Would  she  marry  a  man  she  did  not  love? 

ALINE.     If  she  did,  you  would  not  respect  her? 

CROCKSTEAD.  I  don't  say  that.  She  will  be  your  choice; 
and  therefore  deserving  of  confidence.  Is  she  handsome? 

ALINE.     Well — no. 

CROCKSTEAD.  (With  a  quick  glance  at  her.)  That's  a 
pity.  But  we  can't  have  everything. 

ALINE.  No.  There  is  one  episode  in  her  life  that  1 
feel  she  would  like  you  to  know — 

CROCKSTEAD.     If  you  are  not  betraying  a  confidence— 

ALINE.  (Looking  down.)  No.  She  loved  a  man, 
years  ago,  very  dearly.  They  were  too  poor  to  marry, 
but  they  vowed  to  wait.  Within  six  months  she  learned 
that  he  was  engaged. 

CROCKSTEAD.     Ah ! 

ALINE.     To  a  fat  and  wealthy  widow — 

CROCKSTEAD.     The  old  story. 

ALINE.  Who  was  touring  through  India,  and  had  been 
made  love  to  by  every  unmarried  officer  in  the  regiment. 
She  chose  him. 

CROCKSTEAD.     (Meaningly.)     India?     (Moving   to   her.) 


14       A  MARRIAGE  HAS   BEEN   ARRANGED 

ALINE.    Yes. 

CROCKSTEAD.  I  have  an  idea  that  I  shall  like  yom 
friend.  (Taking  her  hand.) 

(Music  starts  "God  Save  the  King."    Till  curtain  falls.) 

ALINE.  I  shall  be  careful  to  tell  her  all  that  you  said 
to  me — at  the  beginning — 

CROCKSTEAD.  It  is  quite  possible  that  my  remarks  may 
not  apply  after  all — 

ALINE.  But  I  believe  myself,  from  what  I  know  of  you 
both  that — if  she  marries  you — it  will  not  be — altogether—- 
for your  money. 

CROCKSTEAD.  Listen — they're  playing  "God  Save  the 
King."  Will  you  be  my  wife,  Aline? 

ALINE.  Yes — Harry.  (He  takes  her  in  his  arw  and 
kisses  her.) 

CURTAIN. 


TWEEDLES 

Comedy  in  3  acts,  by  Booth  Tarkington  and  Harry  Leon 
Wilson.  5  males,  4  females.  1  interior.  Costumes,  modern, 
Plays  2Vz  hours. 

Julian,  scion  of  the  blue-blooded  Castleburys,  falls  in  love  witb 
Winsora  Tweedle,  daughter  of  the  oldest  family  in  a  Maine  village. 
The  Tweedles  esteem  the  name  because  it  has  been  rooted  in 
the  community  for  200  years,  and  they  look  down  on  "summer 
people"  with  the  vigor  that  only  "summer  boarder"  communities 
know. 

The  Castleburys  are  aghast  at  the  possibility  of  a  match,  and, 
call  on  the  Tweedles  to  urge  how  impossible  such  an  alliance  would 
be.  Mr.  Castlebury  laboriously  explains  the  barrier  of  social 
caste,  and  the  elder  Tweedle  takes  it  that  these  unimportant 
Bummer  folk  are  terrified  at  the  social  eminence  of  the  Tweedles, 

Tweedle  generously  agrees  to  co-operate  with  the  Castieburys 
to  prevent  the  match.  But  Winsora  brings  her  father  to  realize 
that  in  reality  the  Castleburys  look  upon  them  as  inferiors.  The 
old  man  is  infuriated,  and  threatens  vengeance,  but  is  checkmated 
when  Julian  unearths  a  number  of  family  skeletons  and  argues 
that  father  isn't  a  Tweedle,  since  the  blood  has  been  so  diluted 
that  little  remains.  Also,  Winsora  takes  the  matter  into  her  own 
hands  and  outfaces  the  old  man.  So  the  youngsters  go  forth 
triumphant.  "Tweedles"  is  Booth  Tarkington  at  his  best. 
(Royalty,  twenty-five  dollars. )  Price,  75  Cents, 


JUST   SUPPOSE 

A  whimsical  comedy  in  3  acts,  by  A.  E.  Thomas,  author 
of  "Her  Husband's  Wife,"  "Come  Out  of  the  Kitchen,'* 
etc.  6  males,  2  females.  1  interior,  1  exterior.  Costumes, 
modern.  Plays  21,4  hours. 

It  was  rumored  that  during  his  last  visit  the  Prince  of  Wales 
appeared  for  a  brief  spell  under  an  assumed  name  somewhere  in 
"Virginia.  It  is  on  this  story  that  A.  E.  Thomas  based  "Just 
Suppose."  The  theme  is  handled  in  an  original  manner.  Linda 
Lee  Stafford  meets  one  George  Shipley  (in  reality  is  the  Prince 
of  Wales).  It  is  a  case  of  love  at  first  sight,  but,  alas,  princes 
cannot  select  their  mates  and  thereby  hangs  a  tale  which  Mr. 
Thomas  has  woven  with  infinite  charm.  The  atmosphere  of  the 
Bouth  with  its  chivilry  dominates  the  story,  touching  in  ita 
eentiment  and  lightened  here  and  there  with  delightful  comedy. 
"Just  Suppose"  scored  a  big  hit  at  the  Henry  Miller  Theatre, 
Now  York,  with  Patricia  Collinge.  (Royalty,  twenty-five  dollars.) 

Price,  75  Cents. 


SAMUEL  FRENCH,  25  West  45th  Street,  New  York  City 
Our  New  Descriptive  Catalogue  Sent  Free  on  Request 


MRS.   WIGGS   OF   THE 
CABBAGE   PATCH 

Dramatization  in  3  acts,  by  Anne  Crawford  Flexner  from 
the  novel  by  Alice  Hegan  Eice.  15  males,  11  females. 

1  interior,  1  exterior.     Costumes  modern  and  rustic.     Plays 
fl  full  evening. 

A  capital  dramatization  of  the  ever-beloved  Mrs.  Wiggs  and 
her  friends,  people  who  have  entered  the  hearts  and  minds  of  a 
nation.  Mrs.  Schultz  and  Lovey  Mary,  the  pessimistic  Miss  Hazy 
and  the  others  need  no  new  introduction.  Here  is  characteriza- 
tion, humor,  pathos,  and  what  is  best  and  most  appealing  in 
modern  American  life.  The  amateur  acting  rights  are  reserved 
for  the  present  in  all  cities  and  towns  where  there  are  stock 
companies.  Royalty  will  be  quoted  on  application  for  tliose  cities 
and  towns  where  it  may  be  presented  by  amateurs. 

Price,  75  Cents. 

THE   FOUR-FLUSHER 

Comedy  in  3  acts.    By  Caesar  Dunn.     8  males,  5  females, 

2  interiors.     Modern  costumes.     Plays  2%  hours. 

A  comedy  of  hustling  American  youth,  "The  Four-Flusher"  is 
one  of  those  clean  and  bright  plays  which  reveal  the  most  appeal- 
ing characteristics  of  our  native  types.  Here  is  an  amusing  story 
of  a  young  shoe  clerk  who  through  cleverness,  personality,  and 
plenty  of  wholesome  faith  in  himself,  becomes  a  millionaire.  The 
play  is  best  described  as  "breezy."  It  is  full  of  human  touches, 
and  develops  a  most  interesting  story.  It  may  be  whole-heartedly 
recommended  to  high  schools.  (Royalty,  twenty-five  dollars.) 

Price,  75  Cents. 

PALS   FIRST 

Comedy  in  a  prologue  and  3  acts.    By  Lee  Wilson  Dodd. 

3  males,  3   females.     1  interior,  1   exterior.     Modern  cos- 
tumes.   Plays  2^/2  hours. 

Based  on  the  successful  novel  of  the  same  name  by  F.  P. 
Elliott,  "Pals  First"  is  a  decidedly  picturesque  mystery  play. 
Danny  and  the  Dominie,  a  pair  of  tramps,  enter  a  mansion  and 
persuade  the  servants  and  friends  that  they  belong  there.  They 
are  not  altogether  wrong,  though  it  requires  the  intervention  of 
a  judge,  two  detectives,  a  villain  and  an  attractive  girl  to  un- 
tangle the  complications.  A  most  ingenious  play,  well  adapted 
to  performance  by  high  schools  and  colleges.  (Royalty,  twenty- 
five  dollars.)  Price,  75  Cents. 

SAMUEL  FRENCH,  25  West  45th  Street,  New  York  City 
Qur  New  Descriptive  Catalogue  Sent  Fr«e  on   Rt>o"esl 


ON   THE   HIRING   LINE 

Comedy  in  3  acts,  by  Harvey  G'Higgins  and  Harriet 
Ford.  5  males,  4  females.  Interior  throughout.  Costumes, 
modern.  Plays  2%  hours. 

Sherman  Fessenden,  unable  to  induce  servants  to  remain  fo? 
any  reasonable  length  cf  time  at  his  home,  hits  upon  the  novel 
expedient  of  engaging  detectives  to  serve  as  domestics. 

His  second  wife,  an  actress,  weary  of  the  country  and  longing 
for  Broadway,  has  succeeded  in  discouraging  every  other  cook  and 
butler  against  remaining  long  at  the  house,  believing  that  by  st 
doing  she  will  win  her  hushand  to  her  theory  that  country  life 
is  dead.  So  she  is  deeply  disappointed  when  she  finds  she  cannot 
discourage  the  new  servants. 

The  sleuths,  believing  they  had  been  called  to  report  on  the 
actions  of  those  living  with  the  Fessendens,  proceeded  to  warn 
Mr.  Fessenden  that  hh1.  wife  has  been  receiving  love-notes  from 
Steve  Mark,  an  actor  friend,  and  that  his  daughter  has  been 
planning  to  elope  with  a  thief. 

One  sleuth  causes  an  uproar  in  the  house,  making  a  mess  o/ 
the  situations  he  has  witnessed.  Mr.  Fessenden,  however,  haa 
leained  a  lesson  and  is  quite  willing  to  leave  the  servant  problem 
to  his  wife  thereafter.  (Royalty,  twenty-five  dollars.) 

Price,  75  Centff. 


A  FULL   HOUSE 

A  farcical  comedy  in  3  acts.  By  Fred  Jackson.  7  males, 
7  females.  One  interior  scene.  Modern  costumes.  Time, 
Qi/z  hours. 

Imagine  a  reckless  and  wealthy  youth  who  writes  ardent 
love  letters  to  a  designing  chorus  girl,  an  attorney  brother- 
in-law  who  steals  the  letters  and  then  gets  his  hand-bag  mixed 
cp  with  the  grip  of  a  burglar  who  has  just  stolen  a  valuable 
necklace  from  the  mother  of  the  indiscreet  youth,  and  the 
efforts  of  the  crook  to  recover  his  plunder^  as  incidents  in 
the  story  of  a  play  in  which  the  swiftness  of  the  action 
never  halts  for  an  instant.  Not  only  are  the  situations  scream- 
ingly funny  but  the  lines  themselves  hold  a  fund  of  humor  at 
all  time'.  This  newest  and  cleverest  of  all  farces  was  written 
by  Fred  Jackson,  the  well-known  short-story  writer,  and  ig 
backed  up  by  the  prestige  of  an  impressive  New  York  success 
and  the  promise  of  unlimited  fun  presented  in  the  most  attrac- 
tive form.  A  cleaner,  cleverer  farce  has  not  been  seen  for  many 
a  long  day.  "A  Full  House"  is  a  house  full  of  laughs.  (Royalty, 
twenty-five  dollars.)  Price,  75  Cents. 


SAMUEL  FRENCH,  25  West  45th  Street,  New  York  City 
tiu»~  JV«w  Descriptive  Catalogue  S»m  Free  on  Reauaa£ 


POLLYANNA 

"The  glad  play,"  in  3  acts.  By  Catherine  Chishotoa 
CHishing.  Based  on  the  novel  by  Eleanor  H.  Porter,  tf 
inales,  6  females.  2  interiors.  Costumes,  modern.  Playi^ 
2%  hours. 

The  story  has  to  do  with  the  experiences  of  an  orphan  girl 
who  is  thrust,  unwelcome,  into  the  home  of  a  maiden  aunt.  In 
«pite  of  the  tribulations  that  beset  her  life  she  manages  to  find 
something  to  be  glad  about,  and  brings  light  into  sunless  live:.. 
(Finally,  Pollyanna  straightens  out  the  love  affairs  of  her  elders, 
»nd  last,  but  not  least,  finds  happiness  for  herself  in  the  heart 
of  Jimmy.  "Pollyanna"  is  a  glad  play  and  one  which  is  bound 
to  give  one  a  better  appreciation  of  people  and  the  world.  It 
reflects  the  humor,  tenderness  and  humanity  that  gave  the  story 
«uch  wonderful  popularity  among  young  and  old. 

Produced  at  the  Hudson  Theatre,  New  York,  and  for  two  sea- 
lens  on  tour,  by  George  0.  Tyler,  with  Helen  Hayes  in  the  part 
*f  "Pollyanna."  (Royalty,  twenty-five  dollars.)  Price,  75  Cents. 


<THE   CHARM  SCHOOL 

'A  comedy  in  3  acts.  By  Alice  Duer  Miller  and  Kobert 
Milton.  6  males,  10  females  (may  be  played  by  5  males 
and  8  females).  Any  number  of  school  girls  may  be  used 
in  the  ensembles.  Scenes,  2  interiors.  Modern  costumes. 
Plays  2^/2  hours. 

The  story  of  "The  Charm  School"  is  familiar  to  Mrs.  Miller'* 
readers.  It  relates  the  adventures  of  a  handsome  young  auto- 
mobile salesman,  scarcely  out  of  his  "teens,  who,  upon  inheriting 
ft  girls'  board-ing-school  from  a  maiden  aunt,  insists  on  running  it 
himself,  according  to  his  own  ideas,  chief  of  which  is,  by  the 
way,  that  the  dominant  feature  in  the  education  of  the  young 
girls  of  to-day  should  be  CHARM.  The  situations  that  arise  are 
teeming  with  humor — clean,  wholesome  humor.  In  the  end  the 
young  man  gives  1141  the  school,  and  promises  to  wait  until  the 
most  precoeious  of  his  pupils  reaches  a  marriageable  age  The 
pUy  has  the  freshness  of  youth,  the  inspiration  ot  an  extra  va^an* 
but  novel  idea,  the  charm  of  originality,  and  the  promise  of  whole-' 
seme,  sacely  amusjng,  pleasant  entertainment.  We  strongly  rec- 
ommend it  for  high  school  production.  It  was  first  produced  at 
the  Bijou  Theatre,  New  York,  tfien  toured  the  country  Tv.-o 
companies  are  now  playing  it  in  England.  (Royalty,  twenty-five 
dollars.)  Price,  75  Cents. 

SAMUEL  FRENCH,  25  We«t  45th  Street,  New  York  Cit? 
Our  New   iJascrizitiva   Catalogue  Sent  Free   art   D«cu&» 


Comedy  in  3  acts.  By  James  Montgomery.  5  males, 
6  females.  Modern  costumes.  2  interiors.  Plays  2^  hours. 

Is  it  possible  to  tell  the  absolute  truth — even  for  twenty-four 
hours?  It  is — at  least  Bob  Bennett,  the  hero  of  "Nothing  but 
the  Truth,"  accomplished  the  feat.  The  bet  he  made  with  his 
partners,  his  friends,  and  his  fiancee — these  are  the  incidents  in 
"William  Collier's  tremendous  comedy  hit.  "Nothing  but  the 
Truth"  can  be  whole-heartedly  recommended  as  one  of  the  most 
sprightly,  amusing  and  popular  comedies  of  which  this  country 
can  boast.  (Royalty,  twenty-five  dollars.)  Price,  75  Cents, 

SEVENTEEN 

2t  comedy  of  youth,  in  4  acts.  By  Booth  Tarkington. 
8  males,  6  females.  1  exterior,  2  interior  scenes.  Costumes, 
modern.  Plays  2^  hours. 

It  is  the  tragedy  of  William  Sylvanup  Baxter  tttt»S  he  has  ceased 
to  be  sixteen  and  is  not  yet  eighteen.  Baby,  child,  boy,  youth 
and  grown-up  are  definite  phenomena.  The  world  knows  them  and 
has  learned  to  put  up  with  them.  Seventeen  is  not  an  age,  it  is  a 
disease.  In  its  turbulent  bosom  the  leavings  of  a  boy  are  at  war 
•with  the  beginnings  of  a  man. 

In  his  heart,  William  Sylvanus  Baxter  knows  all  the  tortares 
and  delights  of  love;  he  is  capable  of  any  of  the  heroisms  of  his 
heroic  sex.  But  he  is  still  sent  on  the  most  humiliating  errands 
by  his  mother,  and  depends  upon  his  father  for  the  last  nickel 
of  spending  money. 

Silly  Bill  fell  in  love  with  Lolo,  the  Baby- Talk  Lady,  a  vapid 
if  amiable  little  flirt.  To  woo  her  in  a  manner  worthy  of  himself 
(and  incidentally  of  her)  he  stole  his  father's  evening  clothes. 
When  his  wooings  became  a  nuisance  to  the  neighborhood,  his 
mother  stole  the  clothes  back,  and  had  them  altered  to  fit  the 
middle-aged  form  of  her  husband,  thereby  keeping  William  at 
home  in  the  evening. 

But  when  it  came  to  the  Baby-Talk  Lady's  good-bye  dance,  not 
to  be  present  was  unendurable.  How  WUliam  Sylvanus  again 
got  the  dress  suit,  and  how  as  he  was  wearing  it  at  the  party  the 
negro  servant,  Genesis,  disclosed  the  fact  that  the  proud  garment 
•was  in  reality  his  father's,  are  some  of  the  elements  in  this 
charming  comedy  of  youth. 

"Seventeen"  is  a  story  of  youth,  love  and  summer  time.  It  is 
a  work  of  exquisite  human  sympathy  and  delicious  humor.  Pro- 
duced by  Stuart  Walker  at  the  Booth  Theatre,  New  York,  it  en- 
joyed a  run  of  four  years  in  New  York  and  on  the  road.  Strongly 
recommended  for  High  School  production.  (Royalty,  twenty-five 
dollars.)  Price,  75  Cents. 

SAMUEL  FRENCH,  25  West  45th  Street,  New  York  Citv 
Our  New  Descriptive  Catalogue  Sent  Free  on  Request 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below 


rm  L9-50wi-4,'61(B8994s4)444 


college  men  and  girls,  wun  a  tragic   mi  am  «»   f 

cowboys."     A  rollicking  good  story,  full  of  action,  atmospl 
comedy  and  drama,  redolent  of  the  adventurous  spirit  of  yout. 
(Royalty,  twenty-fire  dollar*  *  Price,  75  Gent* 


SAMUEL  FRENCH,  23  We.t  43th  Street,  New  York  City 
Our  New  Descriptive  CenUglte  Seat  Free  on  Request 


'he/D-niS^i 
n»t 


